


Power

by Alice_vs_Wonderland



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Original Character(s), Psychological Trauma, There's always more, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15593259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_vs_Wonderland/pseuds/Alice_vs_Wonderland
Summary: Story set in the There's Always More universe.When Jack and Hiccup try to locate an injured dragon, they find themselves encountering someone from their past, they had hoped never to see again.





	Power

**Author's Note:**

> I am hopeless at posting things regularly, because I have lots of boring, adult responsibilities that suck out all my energy. But here you have a thing :) I hope you like it.

He and Hiccup are going to be together forever, so naturally, they should share their victories and their struggles, right? Well, Jack’s current struggle is that he’s feeling unbelievably disgusting. Therefore, Hiccup should be disgusting too. It just makes sense.

That’s the reasoning Jack has in his head, as he kicks up some mud and watches it spray onto Hiccup’s leather-clad back. Toothless and Frostbite warble with laughter, and Jack feels a great sense of accomplishment. “Hey!” Hiccup says, turning around to flip him off and kick some mud right back. Well. Jack’s boots and trousers already look like he murdered a whole aisle of chocolate bunnies, so not much harm is done. He grins and feels better about his sweaty back and muddy clothes, now that Hiccup looks a little more gross. Well… Gross while still being devastatingly handsome in that way that only Hiccup can pull off, in Jack’s opinion. Maybe he’s biased, but so what?

Endless grey stretches across the skies, hiding the sun and soaking the forest in dark green. A gentle drizzle touches Jack’s skin, cool and soft. Creatures scurry through the underbrush, rustling the leaves and branches. They’re on the edge of the archipelago, where the islands grow smaller and the weather even wetter, chasing after an injured Deadly Nadder. They’d seen it in the distance, landing somewhere in the myriad of pine trees on this small island. So, what other solution is there than to trudge through thick, squelching mud until they find it? It’s not like it’s going to take the rest of the da- actually, it could take the rest of the day. Shit, he really hopes it doesn’t. He had promised to visit North, Anna and Emma today, and he doesn’t want to disappoint them. Not to mention that he misses them unbearably, even though he saw them just last week. Speaking of which, he still has a bone to pick with his dear fiancée, and now is as good a time as any, seeing as they’re just trudging around in the mud.

 “Hic? Could you think about… you know… again?” he says, staring at his fiancées back. He twirls his wand in his hand, the wood so smooth and familiar. He loves the way it practically hums with energy, connecting him to his magic. It also doesn’t hurt to be prepared for something to suddenly jump out of the bushes. He’s seen plenty of horror films. There could be a monster, a serial killer or a little girl with a creepy voice hidden in any one of those shrubs.

“Nope,” Hiccup says and pats Toothless’ head. The shine of Toothless’ black scales is dimmed with brown mud from feet to belly. Every time he takes a step, he sprays more mud onto himself.

“Aww, come on,” Jack says, “Emma says North hasn’t shut up about those Gronckle hatchlings.” He glances to the side. Frostbite is no better, the mud even more visible against his usually pristine, white scales. He mentally shrugs. It’s not like they’re boots he needs to clean, they can just take a quick dunk in the ocean.

Hiccup sighs and it sounds world-weary, like a tired grandfather with 15 impossible grandkids, all begging him for toys from the newest franchise that he doesn’t understand. “I know,” Hiccup says, and Jack can tell he doesn’t feel good about saying no in the first place. He has his reasons though, Hiccup always has his reasons.

That doesn’t stop him from discussing it though. “Give him a chance, it can’t be that bad,” Jack says and wriggles, because his shirt is starting to cling to his back in a gross, clammy way. At first, the soft drizzle was refreshing, but now it’s beginning to become suffocating, turning into a warm coating on his skin, mixing with the drops of sweat on his forehead and back.

Hiccup keeps walking but shoots him a look over his shoulder. It’s one of those looks Hiccup is so good at, completely blank, devoid of any hint of emotion, yet saying so much.

Jack sighs. “Okay, maybe it could go bad, but we won’t know until we try it,” he says, frown melting into a grin, as he watches Frostbite nip juicy berries off the bushes they pass. He can hear bird song from somewhere within the trees and appreciates the pretty melody, making this place seem less dark and damp.

“It’s just… argh,” Hiccup says and scratches his head. Jack notices that Hiccup’s hair is starting to become sweaty too, locks drooping and clinging together. Good. They should be at the same level of grossness. “You know I love North, and you know I’m always borderline desperate for anyone new to love the dragons…” Hiccup continues.

“Wauw, a rare moment of self-perspective from Hiccup Haddock,” he says and laughs at himself, because not only is he terribly good-looking and nice, he’s also funny as hell.

And there it is, another blank look that rates so high on his scale for Hiccup-sass. It lasts for a few moments, before Hiccup resumes his argument. “But I also have a responsibility for the dragons, and the hatchlings are particularly vulnerable,” he says and Toothless nods in agreement. Damn those two, always being in sync.

“But North will be careful!” he says, even though he’s having war flashbacks to the time North tried to help him, Flynn, Merida and Mavis make homemade Easter ornaments, and he kept breaking the legs off their little pipe cleaner bunnies and cardboard chickens, and decided to storm out of the room, complaining about how stupid it was to have a holiday with a bunny in charge in the first place.

“Jack, I once saw him crush a flower, when he was trying to pick it,” Hiccup says, and Jack wants to laugh, because he remembers it clearly, but laughing could possibly hurt his position in this discussion. He bites his lip, suffocating the weak bubbles of laughter he can feel in his throat. “But…” he says, trying to think of a good counter-argument, but he’s coming up empty, “Okay, I know he’s not always able to control his strength, I’ll give you that.”

Hiccup let his hand glide along some of the needles on the pine trees. “I’ve also seen him send a dog into a panic attack, because he screamed at it from across the street.”

“He was excited!” The words leave Jack’s mouth, before he has any control over it. Poor North. He had been so happy, but then he felt guilty for hours afterwards, mumbling about how he hoped the dog was okay.

“I know!” Hiccup says, and now there’s a hint of a smile on his face, “But that doesn’t make it less terrifying for an animal. The hatchlings won’t understand that he’s excited. He might end up giving them all heart attacks or incurring the wrath of their mothers.”

Jack thinks about angry dragon mothers for a moment. “I see your point,” he says, and he hears Frostbite munching on berries beside him. He laughs at his dragon’s face, the white scales around his mouth completely covered with red berry juice. He turns his attention back to Hiccup. “But I still think you should think about it.”

Hiccup does a spin, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. Toothless copies him and flings mud all around him with his tail. Mud collides with Jack’s trousers, but what does it matter at this point? “Fine… I’ll think about it. But only because I know how much he loves Gronckles,” Hiccup says.

Jack walks through a little cloud of tiny flies and flails his arms around to get them away from his face. “Yeah, for some strange reason… Last time I talked with him, he said some shit about them being “majestic” and “elegant.”

Frostbite looks at him with confusion playing in his eyes. Hiccup stops and gets a pensive look on his face, and Jack just knows he’s flicking through memories of Meatlug. “I… guess. I can sort of see it?” Hiccup says, his nose and eyes scrunching in an obvious display of doubt. It’s the same look Hiccup gave Merida, when they were back at Hogwarts, and Merida claimed she was going to put her hatred for Potions on hold and really make an effort.

Jack laughs at the sight, because it’s really cute, when Hiccup tries his best to understand something but doesn’t. “I really don’t think you do.”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t get it,” Hiccup says, flailing one of his hands around, “I love them to bits, I really do, but they’re fire-breathing fat-balloons.”

Jack lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices the dragon footprints to the left of them, sunken into the wet ground, the red blood swirling in watery patterns in the dark mud and grass. ”Hic, look!” Jack says, waving his fiancée over. Hiccup hurries over, that eager gleam in his eyes he always gets, when they’re on the right track to solve a problem. Toothless bounds over, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his sparkling eyes holding all the innocent excitement of a child.

Hiccup stares down at the footprint, chewing on his lip. “It’s limping,” he says with that familiar, quiet concern that’s often reserved for dragon problems.

“What? How can you tell?” Jack says and squints. To him, it just looks like normal dragon footprints.

“If you take a really close look, you can see the footprints on the left aren’t quite as deep as the footprints on the right. It’s putting more weight on it’s right leg.”

Jack rubs his chin and smokes an imaginary pipe. “Impressive, Detective Haddock. I must say, you’re not quite the fool you look.”

The corner of Hiccup’s mouth twitches. He tips an imaginary hat to Jack. “While you, on the other hand, are every bit the fool you appear.”

“Hey!” Jack says and smacks the back of Hiccup’s head, because how dare he? “I’ll have you know, I have great detective skills.”

Hiccup and Toothless snort at the same time. Frostbite is the only one who is quiet, bless him.

“What?” Jack says, crossing his arms.

“Just last week, you couldn’t figure out that Frostbite was the one, who stole your chocolate,” Hiccup says with amusement in his eyes.

“Hey, look at that innocent face,” Jack says and squishes Frostbite’s cheeks, so he looks like a scaly, overweight hamster. Frostbite rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of fondness in those blue depths. “Who could ever imagine Frosty doing such a thing?” Jack says in a baby voice.

Hiccup slowly but surely raises his hand. It’s quite fascinating how much of an attitude, his fiancée can have, even in such a simple action.

“Well, excuse me for seeing the best in everyone,” Jack says and huffs.

“You don’t though,” Hiccup says, shaking his head, “But I know it’s hopeless to get any sort of rational thinking into that thick skull of yours, so let’s find that dragon and help it.”

“Lead the way, Chief,” Jack says and salutes him. As if he will dignify such an absurd jab at his rationality with an answer.

Hiccup gives him a pleased nod and walks deeper into the forest, the mud squishing and sloshing under his weight. Pine trees are standing closely all around them, making it hard to see anything in the distance, green needles melting into green needles on a base of slippery ground. Jack slides his hand over the bark of a tree trunk, the ridges hard and dry against his fingertips. Forests are humbling with their tall, majestic trees, their trunks and branches only growing more powerful by the decades, their roots burrowing deeper into the secrets of the earth. They see more in their long lifetime than most humans ever will. Maybe people would be humbler if they reminded themselves that, compared with nature, they’re only babies, inexperienced, ignorant, vulnerable. Or at least, that’s how Jack feels, when he actually bothers to really think about it.

The moisture hangs thick in the air, hot and invasive like an unwelcome exhale on your skin. Jack steps forward and his foot sinks into the earth, ankle deep, with a splash. Hiccup glances over his shoulder and dares to smile at him. Fucker. But at least Jack’s wearing his amazing boots, so his feet are still dry. There’s a lot to be said about Vikings, both good and bad, but no one can dispute that they know how to make quality boots.

He gets his poor foot out of the hole with as much elegance as he can muster (which, let’s face it, is a lot). His eyes fixes on Toothless’ tail, swishing back and forth in erratic, hypnotic patterns, spraying small drops of mud around. He reaches up to rest a hand on Frostbite’s berry stained face, while they keep walking ahead.  

The dragon footprints stop suddenly. Hiccup suggests it might be switching between walking and flying short distances, too weak to do either for long.

After a while, Jack notices something is different. The birds are not singing, he can’t hear any creatures scuttling about in the bushes… The forest has gone quiet. He lifts his wand to be prepared. Hiccup’s shoulders seem tense, and he’s glancing to the sides now and then. He has definitely noticed too. “Something seems off about this…” Jack says to acknowledge it.

Hiccup faces him, eyes darting around the treetops before they settle on him. “Yeah, it’s too quiet,” he says, “We should go home, get some of the others and then come back here.”

Jack frowns. “What about the dragon?” It doesn’t feel right to leave it out here, alone and injured. He imagines the dragon sitting somewhere, shaking and weak, scared that someone will hurt it. It leaves a sickening burst of guilt in his gut.

Hiccup sighs. “You know I’m worried about it too, but… we don’t have any back up, and we’re too far away to get help, if anything should happen,” he says.

Jack knows he’s right. Hiccup would do almost anything to help a dragon, so when he of all people says this, Jack should listen. But he can’t help but argue. “But we rarely meet any trappers or outlaws anymore.”

“I know, but rarely isn’t never,” Hiccup says and scratches his neck, “Urgh! I want to help it, but … I don’t want to risk our safety,” he says and gestures to all of them, “You’re all my responsibility.”

Jack gives Hiccup a soft smile, because damn, he always has their best interests at heart. Ever since the war, Hiccup has been working hard to get a better balance between risk and safety in his decisions, even though it’s never easy for him. And Jack knows Hiccup is not afraid for his own safety. He’s afraid for Jack, for Toothless and Frostbite. He’s afraid of losing someone he loves, just like he lost Stoick. “I get it. But we have our wands and the dragons,” Jack says, “We’ll be fine. We’ve always been fine in the past.” His smile turns confident, trying to show Hiccup that they’ll be okay, because they have each other’s backs. Always.

Hiccup stares into the never-ending sea of pine trees, his eyebrows lowering to form those serious furrows on his forehead. Toothless nudges his shoulder. “Okay,” Hiccup says, his eyes flickering between them with conflicting emotions, “But let’s find it quickly and help it, so we can get out of here.”

“Deal,” Jack says and trudges forwards, “Come on Frosty!” Frostbite nudges his snout against Jack’s shoulder, leaving a lovely berry stain behind.

“And no magic unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Hiccup says, pointing a finger at him.

“No need to tell me that, I remember what happened last time,” he says and thinks back to the Monstrous Nightmare he’d almost given a heart attack, when he transfigured into a cat. Magic is rare in the archipelago, so most dragons don’t understand it. He has to remind himself of that fact regularly.

Disgusting drops of sweat trickles down the sides of his face. The further they get into the forest, the clammier and thicker the air becomes, like the trees are slowly pulling them into a deadly grip. Jack wonders if there’s some sort of spell that can locate the dragon, but if there is, he doesn’t know it. He only knows locating spells that are reliant on the person or animal having an enchanted object on them. His makes a mental note of researching locating spells. It could come in handy in the future, so they didn’t have to spend hours trudging through damp, warm forests.

Toothless and Frostbite have stopped messing around with berries and mud, their ears on alert, their attentive eyes gazing into the trees. Jack figures they’re probably their best shot at finding the dragon quickly. “Frosty,” he says and Frostbite’s eyes turn to him within a blink. “Fly above the trees and see if you can spot the dragon anywhere,” he says, “But be careful. If you see anyone, people or dragons, fly back to us.” He glances at Hiccup, who doesn’t look happy about splitting up, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably because on one hand, they should stick together, but on the other hand, they want to locate the dragon, help it and get out of here as fast as possible. They can be walking around for hours to come, if they’re unlucky, and that’s a risk too. Decisions like this always feel like drawing a number out of a hat. If it’s the right number, you live. If it’s the wrong one, you die. No control, all gamble. It leaves a sick, pulsing uneasiness somewhere in his gut, but they have a responsibility to the dragons in the archipelago.

Frostbite takes off and his usually impressive display of snow-white wings spreading and clawed feet pushing off the ground is tainted a little by the mud splatters and berry juice still resting on his scales. Jack watches him until he’s out of sight. He considers casting a Muffliato Charm to avoid anyone hearing them walking around, but that might make it more difficult for Frostbite to find them again.

Jack loses sense of time, as they wander around in the company of soggy leaves and chaotic shrubbery. The mosquitoes have come out, seemingly preferring to only bite him on the neck. At least the sun has begun to peak through the sea of grey; weak sun rays pushing through the pine canopy. The three of them are mostly silent, their eyes sharp and their ears straining to detect any sign of the dragon. Toothless suddenly stops, ear flaps turning in different directions, nose tilted upwards, sniffing.

“What is it, bud?” Hiccup says, putting a hand on Toothless’ shoulder, “Is it the dragon?”

Toothless nods to the right and whines, a clear encouragement for them to go there. “Lead the way,” Hiccup says, and they follow Toothless through the closely growing bushes and trees, even less space to maneuver than before. But at least Toothless is first in their row, so he clears some of the way for them, his strong dragon body crushing branches and pushing rocks to the side.

A clearing comes into view, trees circling a patch of lush grass with a small pond. The water glitters in the weak sunlight, and insects buzz and whirl around in the warmth. It would be a peaceful sight, if it wasn’t for the injured Deadly Nadder, collapsed by the water’s edge. Its eyes are almost closed, and its position does not look comfortable, limbs twisted in a weird mess, but it seems like it’s too tired to move any more. Jack has an ocean inside him, the soft compassion for the dragon and the sharp urge to protect it melting in and out of each other, crashing and rolling against his ribcage.

“Shit,” Hiccup says. Toothless waits by his side, looking at him for a sign of what they need to do. Jack does the same.

Hiccup walks slower and Jack and Toothless follow him, edging closer and closer to the Deadly Nadder. It has seen them right away, its golden eyes settling on them, following their every moment. It makes no move to do anything though, and whether it’s because they’re good at showing non-threatening behavior, or it’s because it’s too exhausted, Jack has no clue. He has that tense anticipation inside him he always gets in these unpredictable dragon situations, constantly conflicted between showing he is absolutely no threat, and keeping his wand raised in case he needs to protect Hiccup, the dragons or himself.

Their steps are soft and careful on the damp grass. They avoid direct eye contact, since that can seem threatening. Toothless even makes low whining noises to show he doesn’t mean to harm the Deadly Nadder. It’s a big contrast to how Jack knows Toothless will react, if the Deadly Nadder shows any dangerous behavior. It’s like a lightning strike inside Toothless. Jack has seen it happen many times before. Toothless is loving, caring, playful. But he is also fierce, violent and deadly, if he needs to be. And he can switch between those two personas in a blink.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Hiccup says, his voice calm and reassuring, like Jack has heard him speak to frightened or hurt dragons many times. Hiccup turns his gaze to the side and holds out his hand, just like he did the first time he bonded with Toothless. Jack sometimes teases him that it’s his ‘signature dragon taming move’, but he knows just how effective it is, and how much that small gesture means to both Hiccup and Toothless. The dragon watches Hiccup approach, Jack and Toothless trailing behind. Jack holds his wand a little tighter, just in case. The Deadly Nadder raises its head and it seems to take a tremendous amount of effort for it. “We’ll help you, I promise,” Hiccup says and the untainted empathy in his voice makes Jack think about Emma. How he uses the same voice, when he wants to comfort her. How every day he discovers another reason why he and Hiccup are together.

A crackling sound. Screeching, shrill and painful. Toothless. Jack spins around and sees Toothless collapse in the grass with an earthshaking sound, body unnaturally stiff. His green eyes are wide open but frozen.

“Toothless!” Hiccup shouts, his voice cracking like there are needles pushing into his throat. Jack’s mind is blank, his instincts the only thing left in the void. Shock rushes through his blood, his lungs paralyzed, his mouth gasping. Hiccup pulls his wand out too and stands in front of Toothless, shielding him.

Jack hurries to Hiccup’s side and scans their surroundings, trying to locate someone or something, anything. Fear trickles into his throat, burning, clawing, tightening. There’s nothing but bloody pine trees and bushes. He wants to shout, but nothing comes out. He wants to run and investigate everything nearby, he wants to do _something,_ but he’s rooted to the spot.

He sees a blue spark in the corner of his eye. There’s a switch in his brain. He pushes off the ground. His hands find Hiccup’s shoulder and shoves him away. The spark flies past them in a blur. “Gotcha!” Jack says and without thinking, he fires spell after spell into the shrubbery, watching leaves and branches snap.

He blinks and someone jumps out in a mess of black. Jack keeps his wand on them. Two witches with pristine, black robes and their own wands lifted towards him and Hiccup. One has a chaotic braid and a wild look in her eyes. Jack can’t determine if it’s fear or blood-lust. She looks like someone that hasn’t slept in a week. The other one has impeccably combed hair and a silk scarf around her throat, but her hands are shaking like someone who has everything to lose. For a moment, there is nothing but Jack, Hiccup and the witches. They all have their wands raised and their eyes glued to each other, but no one makes the first move. They stare each other down, the tension stretching further and further like a worn-down rubber band. And Jack is waiting for that band to snap, for one of them to make even the slightest movement. He’s ready. Prepared. He has no strategy, no way of forming a plan in his blank mind. But he has his gut. One mistake could mean death for him or Hiccup. He can’t allow that. He won’t be taken by surprise no matter what they-

“Hello there, Chief,” a familiar voice says from somewhere to the left. In the corner of his eye, he sees Hiccup look to the side. It takes all his restraint to keep his eyes on the witches. He can’t give them an opening. The rage doesn’t slowly build inside him, it’s instant; a boiling flood that cooks his flesh and devours all impulses inside him except one: he wants to sink his fingernails into that man’s life and listen to the ripping noises, as he tears it apart like cheap fabric. The last time he heard that voice, there was a knife glinting in the light and crimson blood flowing across the floors in the Great Hall. The last time he heard that voice, Hiccup almost died.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments = love and motivation.


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